Blindsided to a Dark Desire
by WhoAmI659
Summary: As the only ones of their kind they'd always been close. Yet, things have changed and Leo's the only one to have noticed. But he is at a lost on how to fix it like he's supposed to. What he doesn't realize is that he has a bigger part in it than he originally thought. AU 2014 Movie. Warning: Language, T-Cest:Leo/Raph, Don/Leo, Mikey/Raph. Don't like don't read. No flaming.
1. Chapter 1

**It's Never as it Should Be**

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><p><em>Make Me into Who I Am... or Break Me into the Monster I Can Become...<em>

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><p>Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles<p>

Author: Shhh... It's a secret. Hint: single author story and you have two (three?) guesses. ;)

Disclaimer: I/We do not own the turtles. They belong to their respective owners/creators. OCs that may or may not make an appearance are mine/ours.

Rating: T - M (All depends on how you view it)

Warning: Self-deprecation (Leonardo), Violence, Language (Raphael and Leonardo later on), Hints at verbally abusive nature, M/M : T-Cest May developed in later chapters, and characterization may not seem solid/in sync. (Srry)

If you do not agree with **any** of these elements that will be involved in the story, then **do not** read. **No flaming**. **I've warned you**, so don't bother leaving anything you shouldn't. Thank you.

Summary: AU of 2014 TMNT Movie. (Possible elements from '03 Series & '07 Movie.) Leo & Don both have certian abilities - an extension of senses and capabilities. Raph & Mikey are normal. Oc's will be involved but not the main focus.

My life was never meant to be simple. Especially if that life meant you live in the NYC sewers and are a fully sentient ninja turtle; a ninja turtle with certain gifts that only one other person understood. Yet, never had I thought that it could get more complicated than that; more complicated than mere survival, an Ore that opened my eyes to a whole new world, and a life in the shadows. Little did I realize that fate had decided differently, and my world would soon shift into a reality I did not want. Or so I believed.

A/N: Reviews are appreciated and will encourage writing on my part. I do this for fun, not out of obligation or duty, so sit back and enjoy. Updates will vary depending on circumstances. Hopefully I have come up with something that catches your attention.

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><p>They say good things come to those that wait.<br>They also say that when life gives you lemons, you've just gotta suck it up, and make lemonade.  
>Honestly, neither of these sayings really pertain to me anymore. Besides, I doubt that the author had a giant teenage mutant ninja turtle in mind when they'd written these words down.<br>At one time that notion had been fine. It had not mattered that there was a world revolving around me that had no inkling of my existence; that would never dare accept me even if they had known.  
>Because as long as I had my brothers then my life was as perfect as I could have ever wished it to be; no matter how bad it became at times.<br>Even if there was no food on the table, and clean water had grown scarce, or the heat had dissipated from our home; leaving me and my brothers shivering little toddlers huddling on the concrete floor.  
>It didn't matter because life had been good. We had eachother, and that in itself made it an adventure of a lifetime.<br>It's funny though.  
>How, in a single moment, life can take a turn for the worst.<br>Promises that really aren't promises...  
>Friends that become enemies...<br>Brothers who've changed... evolved into something more complex and diverse than what one turtle can handle.  
>It's all sad really. I shouldn't even be allowed to pity myself. There's no real basis for it, yet I still find myself struggling to actually succeed and handle this development with the prowess and expertise I am known for. I'm utterly at a lost on what it is that I must do, and that confuses the hell out of me.<br>Despite the fact that all four of us are still together, we are no longer as we were. Attitudes have changed, and characteristics have evolved; all leading to a change that I could sense, yet was unable to accurately pin-point.  
>Everyone was on edge, snapping at each other and scuttling off in avoidance.<br>The self-proclaimed conclusion, of how I wasn't handling the situation correctly or effectively at all, was beginning to grate on my nerves.  
>I, who is seen as unstoppable...<br>Viewed as unbreakable...  
>Fearless in all that I face and overcome...<br>The turtle with a plan...  
>The Leader with all the answers...<br>Yet time, and time again, I am faced with cold, harsh reality. I am not unbeatable, nor am I immortal or indestructible. I am flesh and blood, sweat and tears, mind and body. I feel pain and sorrow, guilt and anger, remorse and pleasure. Same as any other. And it is in times such as this that these, _imperfections_, become glaringly obvious.  
>Imperfections a Leader should never carry. Flawed qualities that an authoritive figure should always avoid. Yet here I am, a most imperfect creature... brother... student... mentor...<br>If only I had all the answers to right the wrong. If I could unearth the reasoning behind such subdued changes, then perhaps I could better help to resolve the issue at hand. I hate to see them struggle through this, whatever it is, with no real guidance.  
>This subtle change has affected all three of them. Raphael having shown a change more dramatic than the others.<br>Unsurprisingly, the brunt of his anger and confusion has been directed on the one person he enjoys prodding the most; myself.  
>He'd begun to increasingly lash out at me with renewed vigor, growling at me under his snarky remarks, and snarling in retaliation to anything I utter in his general direction.<br>Fights spewed forth from the minimal interactions we managed to have. The pent up anger that radiated off of him in waves was enough to make me bristle and send me off in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, I couldn't avoid him for long, and things would get dicey from there on out. I could do nothing else but take the brunt of all that he swung at me, hoping that once he released all of this inner turmoil, then we could finally move forward; mending the rift rising between us.  
>Nothing. In fact it only seemed to become worse. He would either despise me for trying to talk with him, or mock me for giving him space in order to prevent an unintentional provocation. We have grown farther apart, and in my desperate attempt to shield myself from the unintentional verbal abuse he unleashes, I have come to create a sort of barrier with him; a filter that only allows for a certain degree of functional interaction.<br>It's downright frusturating and suffocatingly stressful. In times such as this, I've come to find that my status as a brother, friend, and confidant slowly dissipates.  
>I once would have been free to enjoy my time with the other either by relaxing during a vigourious spar against Raph, helping Don test out the latest security, or beating Mikey's latest high-score. Instead I find myself building up defenses and creating a blockade for when their attitudes end up turning sour; the times they see me as a target rather than a victim.<br>So, I've done the only thing I could do. I've closed myself off, burying myself deep within, doming myself to drown in a bleak world of muddled gray. This is the only way I may be able to remain functional without being swept up in the madness currently stirring within the Lair.  
>Time has seemingly flown by as thought after thought push their way into my mind and I soon find myself creeping up on the edge of the city. I pause and contemplate my next move.<br>There's nothing ahead of me, and there's nothing but open sky above me. I could turn back and run the same exact route I've run time and time again during the eighteen years of my life. Yet, I have no desire to turn back now. Not with everything that has been going down. So that leaves only one option...  
>You know what they say. What can't go up, must go... down.<br>The air around me frantically claws at my falling form in a desperate attempt to help my body defy gravity in order to keep me from ending up as a heap of broken carapace on the concrete. I relish it for a moment; adrenaline pumping through my veins at the prospect of death... the rush... the excitement... It all overtakes me and it's wonderful.  
>Years of ingrained survival instincts kick in though, and I can't help the reflexes that come into play. At the last possible second, I whip out a small throwing knife from my belt and reflexively lash out. My left arm hums with the shock of vibrations coursing through my bones as the blade embeds itself deeply into the brick of the apartment complex.<br>With barely a grunt, I push against the building with the length of my forearm as well as the ball of my foot; successfully propelling myself to the next building adjacent from me.  
>Sensing a sudden surge of energy rising within me, I pause to evaluate the newly familiar feeling. It originates from the negativity I have endured, the stress that has become my life, and the worry knawing deep within my mind and soul. Past insecurities, and present turbulations swirl within my core to create a great void that dangerously leeches off of my Chi. I take a deep breath, before slipping into a light state of meditation. Reverting my focus internally, I proceed to uncap my Ido, before falling into a world all my own; a world where the environment is streamed with a whole new different form of coding for life itself.<br>Solid matter is replaced by a stream of glowing blue light and a sheen of stark green backgrounds. Strobes of light fly about the atmosphere in representation of electrical currents and shifting shadows; all of it flitting in a dance unbeknownst to anyone but myself. My own skin has dissolved into a thousand dark blue cubes, each of them a delicate representation of the building blocks of my own being. And it all happens in a blink of an eye.  
>Every time I slip into this world it's exhilarating. The rush of adrenaline that comes with the familiarity and comfort of such a perspective helps to relieve the coil of tension building at the base of my neck.<br>Shrugging my shoulders and rolling my neck in preparation, I chuckle softly to myself in dry mirth.  
>This is how it is supposed to be. Free from the responsibilities and constraints of leadership and expected perfection. To unwind without a shadowing presence of blazing red negativity and an insistent prodding jabber. I may love my brothers with every fiber of my being, but even I have my limits. And this... this is the only way for me to keep myself from falling apart. For what good am I if I can't keep my own self in a state of sanity?<br>Shaking my head from the thoughts creeping up on me, I break into an easy sprint. Heart thudding, blood pumping, an even measured intake and exhale of breath. I bunch my muscles in anticipation.  
>The gap between the two building complexs grow closer and I eagerly lengthen my strides in preparation of making the jump. With a burst of speed, I bend my knees slightly, before my calf muscles bunch up in order to leap off the concrete surface.<br>Throwing my upper body forward, I extend both arms outward, before securely closing my fingers over the ledge of the rooftop.  
>With a small grunt, I swing my feet up over my head in a tight arch, before using the growing momentum to push my body away from the building, and successfully catapulting through the air with a graceful flourish.<br>_Breathe in_...  
>I land with a loud thud on both feet, and the concrete cracks slightly at the force that has been used.<br>_Breathe out_...  
>Veering to the left, I take another leap up off the roof and silently land on a lone fire escape. I continue this synchronization of leaping and swinging, cartwheels and mid-air somersaults, back flips and front pikes. My muscles ache and my lungs burn but I continue to push myself.<br>I launch myself toward a low hanging pipe, the tails of my bandana whip about my face as I do so.  
>Suspended a couple hundred feet in the air, I put my upper body strength to good use, and improvisingly use the pipe in place of a monkeybar.<br>Once I've reached the end of the length I pipe I easily swing my legs forward and land in a crouch on an adjacent rooftop. In the next second I find myself racing across the east end of town.  
>A pain suddenly sears through my chest and I wince from the reminder it brought; merely another problem I had to deal with.<br>These pains had been plaguing me with increased frequency and I had no clue as to why. I had been hoping to avoid needing Dons expertise, but from the heightening severity of the pain, I knew that sooner or later I would have to drag my shell into the lab. No matter the ferocity of my dislike for anything medical, latex, or otherwise, I sensed that I had to take care of this problem. And soon.  
>If only I had known...<br>that this would be the least of my worries.  
>If I'd just an inkling for what it was that would be in store for me later...<br>An offer given to me that'd be so life altering...  
>To which I would agreed...<br>Even when I should have said no.


	2. Chapter 2

It's never made any real sense; the fact that only two of us were gifted with an Ore.

It's never affected the functionality of our team or the integration of our brotherhood. Yet the mystery of the whole circumstance has proven to be a burden in itself.

Splinter has told me the story many times, but I've never managed to be completely satisfied with the simple explanation he provided.

His voice would drone on comfortably as he regaled the night that he'd discovered the four of us. A diverse color of huddled toddlers trailing him as he scoured through the sewers.

At the time, he'd known that he was being followed, yet he chose to convey a false air of ignorance; more out of curiosity rather than precaution.

The pitter-patter of our feet was audible to his sensitive ears. The crunch of our beaks smacking together as we devoured the trail of scraps he purposefully left behind was another dead give away. Still, he continued with this little game of follow the leader.

Finally he confronted us. With stomachs full for the first time in months, our reactions were delayed, and he easily swept us up into his arms. The warmth of his body quited our cries of fear and we immediately took to his comforting presence.

His tone would then shift to an amused lilt as he expressed the curiosity and confusion he felt at finding two of us adorned with something of a peculiarity.

While the others remained naked of this decor, two had been graced with gems glittering in the nighttime darkness. He never truly discovered the reasoning behind this fact. It wasn't until we were thirteen that we'd grown aware of the _true_ potential both Ore's contained.

Subconsciously I run my fingers over the sapphire that dimly glows in the hollow of my throat. It's edges merge with the green of my skin; an assortment of blue veins span out from under the skin that surrounds the gem.

I remember the terror that had struck my body as I fell into my secondary vision for the first time. The vibrant colors had been both overwhelming and breathtaking. I had spent three weeks walking about in a confused haze due to my altered sight; stumbling in awe as solid replicas of my brothers ran about in a shadowy haze of blue particulates.

My heightened senses and vast extensions took some time to master. It required intensive discipline, meditation, and excessive restraint. I still have a lot to learn, and I know that new abilities will continue to appear sporadically - whether they are big or small.

So far it has been nothing as extreme as my third sense; a vengeful being that I can procure. Since it's appearance I have been able to control this beast; tightening the reins as it rears it's ugly head, before it destroys and devours. But I have a feeling that notion won't last long. There's something ugly lying dormant within me and its only a matter of time before it exposes itself as well.

Fearless, that is what the others call me. Yet, in the face of this daunting situation I can feel fear itself creeping its way into my mind. I try and shake away that feeling. The feeling of all consuming darkness and dread, but it clings to me like a shrouding cloak. I may very well need to call upon the added power of my twin soul if this "feeling" ever evolves into an actual sense.

Don is the other brother to have been "born" with an Ore. He gained his senses a few weeks after I and, thankfully, they were on the more mellow side of things. Splinter had dubbed us "twin souls" ever since he discovered that each Ore had a habit of glowing brighter whenever we were in close proximity of each other. He would amusingly recall that he could never lose us as children, for we proved to be a night light of our own making.

And every time we went out of reach, an opposite reaction would occur. Our gems would dim in color and a strange feeling would overcome us; a yearning that begged for the presence of the other. The current record is a strict four miles. Once we stepped outside that range, a sharp pang would strike us without remorse, before emptiness filled our minds. It was a feeling we never wished to experience, therefore we always stayed close to each other on patrols and various outings.

The fundamentals of Don's gifts were still a little garbled for me, but I understood the gist of it. Neither of our senses were similar. He had no secondary vision such as my own, or a sense as dark as the Wrath.

Unsurprisingly Don had been laden with a more masterful sense. One filled with numbers and calculated algorithms, quantity vs quality system of operations, and a detectability of strengths and weaknesses. If he was a genius beforehand, then he'd be considered a super genius with these added abilities at his disposal.

Mikey's still convinced that we are royalty from another planet; yet to be kidnapped and worshipped as gods.

I huff out a low laugh as I recall the day he proposed this theory to me. His explanations for our situation in life was always amusing and helped each of us come to terms with a disturbing reality. Mikey was our light in the darkness. If only... No. No need to think about that.

Swiping a towel from the rack, I absentmindedly began to wipe the sweat from my neck. Despite the lack of intensity from my workout, I've managed to work up a good sweat. Donnie made sure to keep the temp levels balanced in the Wreck room, but I enjoyed fluxuating the numbers now and then. It made for a more real-life situation and I always find that to be an added bonus.

Stepping through the threshold, and into the makeshift Living room, I take a quick survey of my surroundings.

The TV hums with the sound of an ongoing battle; Mikey's right leg swung over the back of the couch as he enjoys his latest show.

The light shining from the lab signifies Don's distraction with another project. A sound, suspiciously resembling that of a metallic whirl, hints at the progress of his much needed "robotic assistant."

I pause and cock my head to the side. Narrowing my eyes I swing my head in the direction of the Dojo. There is no familiar sound of hushed curses and heavy punches. Neither are there the sounds of clinking metal or the rev of a Motorcycle's beast of an engine.

My shoulders tense as I strain to pick up some small noise that will pinpoint Raph's current whereabouts. A twinge of anxiousness crawls at the back of mind as my internal radar picks up on nothing. There was no telltale sound of the Lair's entrance being pried open or of the lift being used. That eliminates the possibility of Raph having left during my run.

There...

A subtle shift in movement...

A rough scrape of breath...

A creak...

A thump...

I shake my head as a snore rips through Raph's room. It makes sense. Raph had been pulling all nighters in the Wreck room lately. It was a wonder that he'd made it this far with such an irregular schedule.

I still can't help the surge of relief that fills me. If Raph had chosen to disobey my orders... I grimace at the thought. Not only would I have been pissed, but undoubtedly worried as well.

"Leonardo." The voice jolts me out of my thoughts. My gaze snaps upward in response and I spot the shifting shadow before it materializes before me. My mood immediately shifts into a more serious note and I fall into a mentality far beyond my years. Drawing my shoulders back and bending into a perfect bow - I proceed to greet my visitor respectively.

"Hai Sensei," I reply firmly, standing once Splinter nods his head in greeting.

His dark eyes roam over my figure in an inquiring glance; silently prodding for visual information. I can't help but stiffen at the prospect of what it is that he will find.

Flattening his ears and whipping his tail in the air, he beckons me forward. Without question I follow him to his room and skillfully toss the soiled towel in the hamper across the bathroom door.

Once I've ducked under the doorway, I obediently fall to my knees and tilt my head forward; enough so that I am seen as subservient yet at the same time - attentive.

He slips into a lotus position, laying his cane across his lap before addressing me. His senses are sharp and in focus as he strokes his beard in thought.

"How are you doing my son?"

Admittedly, this catches me by surprise. I had been expecting a conversation revolving around the development of Scorpio or perhaps another in-depth discussion on the talk of the Revolutionists; tactics, strategies, fundamentals and planning. Not this.

"Sensei?"

I shot his a questioning glance.

"Do not make me repeat myself Leonardo." His whiskers lower and his ears flare in a downward motion. I duck my head in understanding.

"I am fine Sensei. My training has been running smoothly. The others are lagging behind, but I am positive that I can get them back on track. They - _we_ - will be ready," I pause, watching him through the haze of smoke that wafts before me. I internally growl at what I see; he is still not satisfied. I continue, bringing up the only other topic that I know he finds important.

"I am planning to visit Donnie about the chest pains. The fact that they haven't dissipated, despite the herbs, forces me to reconsider my actions in keeping this from him."

Master Splinter nods in approval.

"I'm glad to hear that my son. Although you have yet to answer my question," Splinter points out.

I pause as a twinge of confusion courses through my mind. Hadn't I already covered the basis of his question?

"You have spent more time on patrol," He continues in explanation. "You have lost body mass as well as sleep, and you have yet to eat a proper meal. So I ask, how are you doing?"

He leans forward as he waits for my answer.

I can count the number of times I have been rendered speechless; warred with myself on what I _want_ to say and what I _should_ say. This is now one of those times.

"Sensei..." I press my fingers atop my thighs, a dark ring of light green the only sign of the immense pressure I am using.

"Honestly Sensei, I am well," I swallow, "If you are asking after my physical well being, I am aware that I have been pushing my limits. Yet, you know that I am well within my right mind to register when too much is enough. As for anything else..." I glance up at him, "What makes you believe that I would be unwell otherwise?"

A huff of breath escapes his mouth, and it brushes against the top of my head. As he speaks I can hear the undercurrent of heaviness and sadness lining his every word.

"My son, you have been pushing yourself more so than normal. I sense that there is a heavy burden you are carrying and it shows in the way you manage your well being. Your brothers' focus has also been taking a detour from their own responsibilities and I suspect that it is because _you_ are distracted."

I push down the surge of irritation that rises at that. I _had_ been focused. Could he not see that the others had gone off track before I did? Was he so blind to the fact that I was the one struggling to deal with their problems; desperately scrounging around to come up with a suitable solution to their change in demeanor. Why did he always have to blame the lack of impeccable behavior and performance in my team on me?

_Because you are their leader. You are responsible to fix whatever it is that's broken. You must mold your brothers into an indestructible force that will be feared and respected by others. Your life's purpose is for them and them only. Their success is your success, as is their failures._

I bite my tongue and force myself to relax. Sensei was sensing the imbalance that was growing within me. All of which is unacceptable and I find myself berating my own actions and slip-ups.

"Forgive me Sensei. I had not realized that I was affecting my brothers in such a way. My blindness and ignorance toward this matter has caused a disruption in the family. One that I will try and resolve," I force out evenly. It is a hard pill to swallow but I know that a leader never placed the blame on others. It was unacceptable and defied the rule of conduct for a person in my position.

Splinter gives me a wan smile.

"You are their leader Leonardo. Whatever pain or turmoil you experience, will reflect in their own lives. With no guidance, they will either turn to each other for support or seclude themselves in their own worlds. Unfortunately it seems as if they have chosen the latter and that is something I will not accept. This is not how a team must function. This is not the team I raised you to be," Master Splinter heaves himself into an upright position, the head of his cane clasped firmly within his rodent-like fingers.

"For that I have made a decision," He turns to look at me; seemingly peering into my very soul with those dark, beady eyes.

"Your brothers seem to believe that a leader lost, is no different from a leader gained. This is untrue. A leader is the shoulders of which they stand upon; the backbone to something that can be so fragile. A burden such as this is no small matter and you have carried it without complaint for years. Yet, I have seen that it has taken a toll on you."

My brow furrows as I try to make sense of his low murmuring. I push down a flutter of panic.

"Therefore, I am offering you a choice. You may choose to either stay here and continue on the path that you are on, or you may embark on a journey that will help mold you into the leader that your brothers need," He uncurls a loose fist and carelessly gestures at the ceiling. Realization dawns on me, and for the second time today I am rendered speechless.

"Make no mistake," Splinter turns to the wall of weapons that glint in the warm glow of his candles, "this is not a vacation. It is a chance to further your training and to allow you to get back on your own two feet; to rediscover yourself and your purpose. I feel as if this will benefit you, as well as your brothers; allow them to realize how much it is that you need one another. The world, as we know it, is changing - evolving into something that may be its own demise. If we are to survive, you must learn to work together - lean on each other - in order to overcome these trials. Only in this, will you be successful."

I close my eyes briefly.

"But Sensei, now is not the right moment. My brothers- they are not ready. I can't abandon them in a time such as this. You've seen first hand how lethal Scorpio's men are. The Purple Dragoms were playthings compared to these thugs. And what of the Revolutionists? What if all this talk about them holds truth? I couldn't bear the thought of abandoning them in such circumstances."

I listen to the distinct rustle of his robe as he reaches for a single weapon.

"My son, your brothers are more than capable of handling themselves. Where is your trust in their capabilities?"

Trust. The thing is, I had no trust. Not with the way things had been going. I wasn't comfortable with them running things on their own. Nor did I want to leave them in this state. They would despise me if something terrible happened while I was away. They would assume that I had abondoned them and left them for naught.

But did I really want to do this? Did I want to abandon my family in favor of self discovery? Could I leave them behind all for my own improvement? Honestly, I wouldn't be able to.

But what if Splinter is right? What if the others just needed a reprieve from an overbearing leader? A leader who couldn't even lead properly? What if I was the reason behind everything falling apart?

If I said yes then I'd first have to reinforce that trust. Training was going to have to be a bitch before anything happened.

Splinter gives me a sly glance as I mull over this and I can practically see the glint of understanding residing in his gaze. He already knows what I will say before I'm even willing to accept it.

I take a deep breath and nod. Taking a stand beside my Father, I bend into another bow.

"I understand Sensei. Where will I be heading?"

My gaze flits up to his face in time to spot the small smile forming.

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><p>AN: Splinter is so hard to write. Sorry for any mistakes and bad characterization


	3. Chapter 3

"Slow ya ass down Fearless," the threat beneath the guttural growl is all too obvious, "they'll have hell ta deal with if they can even catch up ta us. So ya can jus' damn well stop it wit' th' bootcamp run that's making us all, 'cept _you_, seem like lil' pathetic schoolgirls." I ignore the second eldest completely and pick up the pace just slightly in response.

Raph is really pushing it tonight, and its taking an innate amount of discipline to not just whirl around and verbally snap back at him in retaliation. Still, the residential hot head does have a point. I've been pushing all of them a little harder than normal.

Don's heavy panting is a clear sign of the exhaustion and frustration plaguing them at the moment. I bite back a snarl of urgency as my mood sours slightly, and I opt to continue with the set pace.

It seems as if my previous training sessions have failed to prepare my brothers for my more "intensive" round. The only conclusion - I have failed; failed to keep them focused and on task during our katas and daily sparring sessions.

I'd desperately been hoping that if they were able to make it through this nightly round, without a hitch, then this immense pressure of always wanting... worrying... obsessing over the need to have my brother's backs covered twenty-four seven; that it would all just dwindle down to a manageable burn at the base of my neck.

Sure, I have always been an overprotective brother; trying desperately to keep my family safe. Yet even then I knew that I could fall back on a certain truth. My brothers are highly trained ninjas and they sure as hell can handle themselves.

But now... things have been blurred out of reality. So badly... that... I have opted to accept Splinter's offer; an offer that will change my life forever.

I will be leaving for Central America sometime soon and I have yet to tell my brothers.

_ "I just need to rebuild that trust I once had for them and then I can leave,"_ I remind myself sternly.

I need to trust that they can handle themselves. A trust in Raphael to keep a level head when the tables turn, for Mikey to pay attention when it no longer is just a game, or for Donnie to release his passive nature when it comes down to the nitty-gritty.

Call me selfish, but I desperately need this cushion to fall back on; an insurance of sorts if you will. They have been begging for independence in their own weird way and here I am about to give it to them.

I can't leave them just yet though. I have to be sure that I am doing the right thing; that they really don't need me...

Yet, I can't deny the niggling doubt of that ever occurring. I love my brothers too much to just let them go that easily. If it only weren't one hellava confusing situation, then it'd be so much easier.

A gravelly voice breaks me from my thoughts.

"I ain't shelling wit' ya Leo. Slow the fuck down, or else I'll make sure ya ain't able to run for a week." Raph threatens - baiting me - as his hands clench into imposing fists. Instead I grit my teeth and keep on running; the only sounds being that of our breaths mingling with the nighttime air.

It isn't long before that silence is broken yet again.

"L_eoooooooo_, fuckin' slow down will ya? Dude, you sure as hell know how to suck the fun outta anythin' don'tcha." Mikey whines with an over dramatic sigh as he thumps a loose fist against the back of my shell.

Out of all of them, it is he who keeps up with me for the majority of the run. He has an uncanny talent for natural athleticism, but his mind always manages to hold him back. If it isn't fun or interesting at all, then it isn't important to him in his book. Sometimes that proves to be aggravating for me, but he's my kid brother and I can't hold something like that against him.

I shake my head, for I know that I've just lost this battle of wills with him. I have no defense against Mikey's famous _I'm-gonna-get-my-way-no-matter-what_ tactics.

Training will just have to be tougher next time around. The jungle will still have to wait.

Giving Raph a furtive glance and spotting the sharp smirk he flashes at Mikey, I silently roll my eyes. Basic training will definitely be intense next time around.

Brushing my fingers across the blue sapphire hanging about my neck, I concentrate on centering myself; leaving behind all earthly matter before the dragon tattoos littered about the left side of my body glows an erotic shade of neon blue. Drawing in the energy hovering about my form, I cast my sixth sense outward, and scan the surrounding area for any other life signals that will entail immediate danger.

The small tendrils of light eagerly probe and prod the surrounding surface. They skim over bricks and air, searching for anything that may allow for them to release the pent up energy surging through their veins.

It always amazes me how bloodthirsty this certain "sense" can become; always seeking for a possible victim to overcome and devour.

My strength begins to bleed out of my body as the extension of my reach grows, yet I ignore the side effect of slight fatigue. Using the Ore is a helpful tool, while simultaneously proving to be a liability as well.

Only in the presence of Don do I ever use it, on account that it proves to leach power from the very essence of my core, leaving me in a dangerous situation if I lose my hold on the sense.

Finding no threat to be lurking by, I release a low sigh -the glow of my eyes and emblems fade away in response- and ease up on the pace.

I narrow my eyes in concentration, seeking for the best turnoff point that will grant us sufficient cover. Giving a slight grunt in warning, I raise a single tight fist and give the signal.

Instantaneously everyone disperses into the shadows; each turtle pairing up with another and veering off into different directions.

I can sense Don trailing in close behind me, and I am not surprised. It always ends up this way - Don and I, and Mikey with Raph. And I can't help but feel as if this is what I'd miss the most. The structure, the familiarity, the closeness of me and my family.

Slowing my breathing, I continue to watch with sharp eyes for any sign of potential pursuers; massive, lethal and extremely pissed off.

I sniff the air as unease sweeps through me. The night had been uneventful except for a few low key robberies. Still, that doesn't mean bigger problems can still arise.

Don places a hand on my shoulder in question and I can feel that he has grown unsettled as well. Crouching low to the ground I reach outward and grip his forearm firmly; lightly tapping a message against his green skin.

_Scorcherz - 12 o'clock. Do not engage._

He swiftly taps his forefinger on my shell in understanding before slinking off to tell the others.

I draw my attention once more on the shadowed outskirts of the building. Every nerve in my body is fired up, each muscle is quivering in anticipation, and every fiber of my being is alight with adrenaline.

I can practically smell them. Their dark, beady eyes roaming over every crack, crevice, and set of stone that lies in their path as they seek for their next prey.

One must truly be higher in skill and experience to beat them at their own game of "cat and mouse." A variety of weapons always dangle from their waists; sledgehammers, axes, and gunmetal firearms hung to them like dear old friends.

They reek from the stench of day old blood, most likely a criminal war lord that went way over their head in pissing off the Scorpio-King. These men are dangerous and skillfully trained.

This gang has prove that they have the potential to be worse than the Purple Dragons. They are ruthless and bloodthirsty. I fear that if my brothers encounter them once I leave, that they will not be able to hold their own.

Perhaps I should have allowed the team to engage. To let Raph burn off some steam, to see how well Mikey and Don fight once paired up with one another, to determine if they are truly ready.

I internally sigh.

No.

Another night will better suit this purpose.

I press myself up against the wall behind me, inching my way toward the ledge in order to sneak off down below.

A sudden scuffle to my immediate right makes me freeze in apprehension. My head whips around and the sight I am greeted with makes my gut clench.

The unmistakable glint of twin sais flash through the air before making deadly accurate contact with its target. Red hot liquid spurts forth in rapid rivulets, bathing the concrete in a bright hue, before streaming down into a fast flowing puddle.

Clenching my teeth in anger, I silently curse the actions of my immediate younger brother.

All hell breaks loose once the gang registers that one of their own has been taken down; forcing Mikey and Don to engage in battle.

They swing their weapons through the air in rapid succession; slicing through flesh and bone in order to render their opponents cripple and useless.

I can't help but feel as if this night is only going to get worse.

With a final huff of aggravation, I unsheathe myself from the shadows and enter the ensuing fight with swift vengeance.

I seemingly glide through the multitude of bodies that begin to swarm out of nowhere. Behind me I can clearly hear Raph streaming off a handful of colorful choice words and I once more grimace at the thought of this newer habit he has recently formed.

Raph has been growing more clever; sneaking off without a word in order to go Bar hopping with Casey. I will definitely be having words with him later.

A strangled scream for help pulls me out of my thoughts, and I whirl around to quickly assess the situation.

"Shit!" I barely take note of my own cussing and instead focus on my brother. Don's surrounded by an overwhelming amount of Scorcherz and its not looking so good. He's already bleeding upside the head, and has a minimum of six fractured ribs by the way he's holding himself. The end of his Bo is in a condition that suggests a paper shredder has gotten to it.

"I'm coming for you Don, just hold on!" I command firmly as I surge towards him.

My Katana sings a beautiful tune as it soars through empty space and solid matter; latching onto delicate skin before tearing it open with surprising ease.

Leaping forward - while using the keeled over gangster as a stepping block - I catapult through the air and land in a crouch no more than five yards before Donatello.

Dark brown orbs snap to my own in a panicked frenzy, while lightened green lips form my name.

"Donnie!" I snarl in desperation; my heart pounding in my ears.

But I am too late. I freeze as a shard of smooth metal pierces his body; the sound of cracking bones and ripped skin grates against my ears. Blood thickly oozes from the wound, while simultaneously winding it's way down his chin and dripping onto his chest. He falls to his knees with a jarring thud, eyes glazing over as he continues to stare at me in a cry for help. For a moment I am nothing but numb.

Then, it is as if time has sped forward. Dread slams into me as my mind puts together what I have just seen. I feel as if my heart has wrenched itself out of my body as his pained gaze probes my own. Before I am able to take my next breath, a blinding light appears, casting my shadow against the backdrop of the city. Prying my eyes open once it disappears, all I am met with is an already cooling pool of blood.

_Donnie... No..._


	4. Chapter 4

"Yo Leo, a lil' help over here!?"

I shake my head as another shell smacks into my own, almost knocking me over.

Taking in a sharp breath I look over my shoulder in time to spy Michaelangelo twirling his nunchucks in a fan-like motion; disarming his opponents and smacking them in their rear whenever he can.

During this whole ordeal, a stray blade manages to nick Mike along his forearm as he blocks an oncoming knife; blood staining the wraps about his wrist. The stench immediately hits my nose and it triggers something within me.

_Donnie... Mikey... Hell no..._

"Mike, hold unto your shell," I warn before leaping unto his back; digging my knees alongside his body to keep my balance.

Flashing my teeth in anticipation, I aim my Katana in preparation, and attack. Tendrils of blood archs through the air; droplets splashing against the cold concrete in a picture of gore and askew justice.

"Dudes! Fear my four-armed awesomeness!," my little bro chuckles beneath me. It must be a sight to behold; me hitching a ride on Mike's shell while shadowing his movements with my own.

The slight animosity from earlier has fled from Mikey as he enjoys the fight, and I can't help but smirk in amusement.

It's safe to say that I am well within my element. Nothing can stop me; not the increasing number of foes, or even the feel of hot sticky liquid pooling in the crevice of my hands.

It's an instinctual act; releasing my fury upon those that have proven to be threatening; that have hurt Don and are trying to take down Mikey. However the severity of such anger has never been so profound. I've never had anger issues as explosive as Raph's; a shrapnel of ire and heat scathing those who happen to be in his line of fire. Still that doesn't mean I don't have my own devil of a temper.

Normally, I'd have a tight cap on such a destructive nature. As of now, the rules have become blurred; emotions are amplified and restraint is lost. I am thirsty for more, and I know exactly how to quench that desire.

"Roly poly," I bark out and I can feel Mikey tense in understanding. This is a move we used to do as toddlers; one Mikey especially loved.

Assuring that my grip on him is secure, I reseathe my Katana, and grow taught in preparation. Mikey whoops out in joy as I throw my upper body backward in a semblance of a back flip. Keeping my legs wrapped about Mike's upper torso, I fling him up in the air. I release him in time to avoid smacking him against the floor and he slingshots across the asphalt on his shell.

"Take that you vile villains!," he bellows as he knocks down a group of men; aiming his weapons along their weak points and soft spots.

Flipping back up into a defensive stance, I ignore Mikey's enthusiastic fighting and zero in on my own enemy. I give a low chuckle as I tower over the man trembling before me. The terror in his eyes fuel my desire and something within stirs dangerously.

My lunge is followed by a delicious scream and a sudden burn within me ignites. Shaking my head, I grimace as my Wrathful sense crackles with a deep want, and I struggle to try and contain it. I need Donnie.

"Leo!"

I whirl around at the sound of Mikey's sharp yell; panting as I try to hold the monster within. My gaze catches a flash of orange a few paces away and I snarl at the sight of him struggling to remain upright. Several members have latched themselves along his shell in an attempt to weigh him down. The glint of a switchblade eludes to their intent, and my sense urges me on; to destroy, to protect, and to feed.

I slam the handle of my katana against the temple of a lone straggler, and race my way over to my other brother's side. But by the time I reach him he is gone in a flash of light; same as Donatello.

I come to a sudden halt; heart thudding wildly and senses heightening automatically.

"Shell no. Not again," I growl in frustration.

The Wrath tries to drag me toward the remaining members, but I manage to control the urge and instead choose to ignore the beacons of pulsating life.

"Raph!" I call out briskly, gripping the handles of my Katana tightly.

"Leo! S'that ya?!" his voice eminates from behind. I spin around and go shell to shell with him in answer.

Fighting back to back, I assess him mentally for any injuries, and am glad to only find a few cuts and bruises; nothing too major.

"We can't keep this up Raph," I headbutt a guy covered in a maze of tattoos before tossing him into his friends, "We gotta-"

"Shell it Leo," Raph cuts me off with an annoyed snarl. Typical. Raphael never likes running from a fight, no matter the consequences. Instead, he chooses this as the time to play twenty questions.

"Where's the others?" he demands impatiently. I grit my teeth in anger as I duck a flying fist.

"What did'ya do? Huh?" His shell scrapes against mine as he leap-kicks his opponent. I use this opportunity to sweep my leg in a three hundred and sixty degree angle; thugs drop like crazy as I take them by surprise.

"Shit Leo, why aren't you with them?" Ralph's elbow grazes my ear as he takes a swing at the giant man before him.

"Leo!" Raph barks out at me. Ignoring him for the moment, I proceed to execute a perfect scissor cut that takes down the last of the Scorcherz.

I stand here, sweat dripping down my body, amid rotting flesh and silently cursing winds. The stench of blood - thick, and sorely tasting of heavy copper - causes for me step back as a wave of intense hunger washes over me.

Suddenly there is a green hand spinning me around, partially yanking me back into reality, and bringing me in close by the straps that hold my Katana in place. Drawing his face near, and practically barring his teeth, Raphael growls out at me in an almost incoherent bark of harsh accusation.

"Where's Mike and Don?" he searches my eyes desperately, hoping for an answer that he can accept. It's hard for me to answer. My thoughts are all jumbled and I can't seem to focus. But somehow I manage to utter a response.

"They're gone," I bite out, my tongue subconsciously running over the tips of my teeth. Raph pauses and I know that he can see what's happening. He can spot the animal trying to force its way out and I spy some foreign emotion swimming in his eyes.

My sudden mood has invoked something within him and suddenly I am afraid. Afraid that he'll try and push me to where I will lose full control; to where I may unintentionally hurt him. Thankfully, he realizes that this is not wise and pushes me away with a hint of disgust.

"Damn ya Leo," he shakes his head as an unamused chuckle forces its way from deep within his throat. Pointing at me, he glares harshly.

"I told th'm, and here ya are provin' me right once and for all."

"You told them? Told them what exactly?" I question with a clear edge to my voice.

"Shell it Leo. I've had enough of this bullshit," I jerk my head back at that. My eyes widen as I catch him bringing his Sai high above his head; the glinting, sharp point facing downward at a dangerous angle.

"Raph don't you dare!" I order angrily, dismissing my sense that hums with approval at the prospect of more blood.

Ralph's golden eyes narrow as he gives me a mock salute.

"See ya on the other side bro," he sneers before digging his Sai hilt deep in his chest. Blood immediately spurts up from his heart, and rains down upon the ground, drenching both his belt and the rooftop in a mere couple of seconds.

A flash of blazing white emitts from his body, turning his skin a pure translucent green. Rays of light stream forth from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth; spilling about like an overfilled dam. His beak gapes wide open in a silent scream, before he vanishes like all the others.

My Katana clatter to the ground as anger and pain floods me. My breathes quicken, and I struggle not to rip my mask off and shred it into pieces. Every cell in my body is yelling at me to run - run from what I've just seen, run from the trial of blood flowing down to my feet- but I don't. I can't.

Then, it as if all the breath has been squeezed out of my lungs - the shock of this sensation making me gasp out in surprise.

Invisible fingers squeeze my throat with an iron grip, blocking off my airways and successfully choking me. A sudden deep ache burns within each pulmonary as they scream for air. My fingers immediately claw at my throat in an act of instinct, desperately trying to fight my way out of this unforeseen predicament.

My vision begins to grow blurry and black spots dance before my eyes. Blood pounds in my ears, and I can hear the rapid pace of my heartbeat as I continue to struggle.

A hot breath seemingly spreads out across the side my face, and intangible fingers dig deeper into my flesh.

Releasing one strangled breath, I slump in defeat as a strobe of light engulfs my prone form.

* * *

><p>Confused? Well that's alright. Everything will hopefully be explained in the next chapter. Thanks for reading, and remember... Reviews are welcomed, flames aren't.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

_Raphael - tense, angry and beyond clear rational thought - a hand curled into a fist as bright pink paint drips down the curve of his beak._

_Mike - young, naive, and unwilling to fight back in order to prevent unintentional injury - eyes wide in a mixture of shock and fear._

_It's clear to see that Raphael is still wound up from our earlier argument. I can see the pulse at his neck as it heaves in tune with his heart just as well as I can spy the sweat beading down his temple. Mikey is caught in the corner with a stray water balloon held loosely in his fingers; his free hand idly scratching at the back of his neck. These small clues are all it takes for me to understand how everything played out. _

_Mike never enjoys seeing either of his brothers in distress; whether it be physical or emotional. All he wants is to hear Raph laugh; to see the glint of humor and mischief in his eyes again. So he does what he does best - be Mikey. Yet Raph is on too short of a fuse to understand that our little brother only wants to help; to calm the raging storm and restore the balance. Raphael is blinded by his anger; all he sees is red and all he will do is react on instinct. Raph has the potential to explode and destroy everything around him; including himself. _

_In a matter of seconds I wedge myself between the two; slamming a fist against Raph's chest and raising my free arm in a basic block. __My hand hums from the force it undertakes as I swiftly catch Raph's punch and expertly twist his arm behind his back. My own arm aches from the force of Raph's throw, yet I remain firm and unforgiving with my grip. _

_"_Watch yourself Raphael. A _temper out of hand, is a flaw exposed," I murmur low in his ear before loosening my hold on him. He whips himself around in a huff - an argument at the tip of his tongue and a fire alight in his eyes - then freezes at what he sees. I turn around to find Mike with his head between his knees and his hands over the top of his head; the balloon forgotten at his feet._

_Preventing Raph from approaching the youngest, I crouch down before him and brush my hand over Mikey's knuckles. He jerks his head up in response and it pains me to see it in Michelangelo's eyes - the simple fact that he now understands even those close to you have the potential to be cruel. _

* * *

><p>Darkness...<p>

Complete... and utter... darkness...

Not a single sound to be heard...

Neither is there a single light to be seen...

Yet there is a hint of warmth...

The scent of grease and black coffee...

A sensation of safety...

familiarity...

tenderness...

* * *

><p><em>Donnie's hand hovers over my Ore; hesitant as he debates over whether what he is going to do is a good idea. His eyes shift around in slight nervousness, his fingers flex in a beat of anxious preparation and his breathes come out in shallow spurts. Otherwise he remains almost lifeless.<em>

_"Don," I lightly touch the back of his fingers, "what's wrong?"_

_His brown gaze flits to mine and I can see that he is thinking; calculating all the possible outcomes. __I can picture the gears within his head turning; pieces flitting about, begging to be put into its correct place in order to reveal a logical enough answer. Earlier he was so confident in his decision, yet now he seems to be second guessing himself - unsure and wavering. It isn't reassuring in the least. _

_I lean back, distancing myself from his touch as he mulls over what it is that he wants to do._

_"Don, you don't have to do this," I whisper softly, holding back a racking cough. The sickness has progressively been growing worse and there seems to be no cure. Illness is no stranger to any one of us, yet I can tell that both Splinter and Don are growing worried. So I am not surprised once Don approaches me with an idea; a possible solution that he is spending his free nights searching for. What does surprise me is the solution he has found. _

_"You're hurting," he snaps back. I frown at his tone and continue to lean away from him. His ever perceptive gaze catches this and he stops me with a single touch to the arm. His gaze softens as he presses his forehead against mine, his breath washing over my face. My gaze seeks out his own and _I can see my pain reflected in his eyes.__

_"You're hurting and it's hurting me to see you like this Leo. I can practically feel the pain and the pressure," he elaborates. His fingers idly trace the back of my neck as he continues._

_"I want to help you, but I don't want to hurt you even more. I've made all the calculations and there's -" his eyes focus on my Ore for the umpteenth time, "sixty-five percent chance for survival."_

_Slowly I find his free hand and squeeze it gently. _

_"It will be fine Don. I promise," I offer him a small smile as I draw away. He takes a deep breath and gives a nod in affirmation. __I brace myself for what will happen next; my eyes shutting in acceptance._

_"I'm sorry..." A soft whisper reaches my ears before olive fingers kiss the surface of my Ore._

* * *

><p>Lethargically opening my eyes, a low groan escapes from deep within. Colors skim before my eyes in an inconceivable mixture of purple, orange, red and green as I fight to return to consciousness; a haze of memory trying to override my sense of reality.<p>

"... slowly coming around," a familiar voice murmurs lowly.

"Donnie?," I croak out.

"Yeah, it's me. Just..." he releases a breath of concern, "just keep still Leo, it's alright."

"Alright? _Alright_?! Ya know damn well it ain't jus' _alright_. Move outta the way so I can beat his ass," Raph bellows out in a fit of rage.

"Please calm down Raphael," Don intones, "the memory flow may be interrupted if you decide to bust your own arse in a fit of anger."

"Yeah dude, _relax_. It was only just a game," Mike remarks.

"Was I talking to you? No. So shut the fuck up shell-head," Raph snaps in irritation, his booming voice making my headache all the more unbearable. It's as if a bomb has gone off in my head and I can barely think straight. My body feels heavy and my chest throbs with a dull ache; the feeling amplified in the hollow of my neck. Slowly I draw my arms beneath me and pull myself up into a sitting position.

"Don? What the hell happ-"

In the next instant I find myself being shoved up against the wall. A pair of thick fingers dig deep into my neck with increasing pressure; threatening to leave a ring of dark bruises. I draw in ragged breaths as I focus on the angry face before me - Raphael. His golden eyes are smoldering with an intense fire that highlights the red color of his mask and his anger.

Raph is truly terrifying when he wants to be, and anyone else would be having a downright heart attack right about now. But I know better. I have seen him at the end of his rope and right now I know that he is still in control. All he wants is to see me squirm, to make me feel out of sorts, yet I won't give him the satisfaction. He's fishing for a fight; a fight with me. But I refuse to take the bait.

Donnie has spent months working on the project - aka The Wreckroom; trying to perfect it into the most complex piece of machinery he has ever procured. Which is an understatement, since our residential genius has created a way for us to enter a world made out of nothing but our own thoughts.

Mikey sees it as the most advanced video game he's ever had. I tend to view it as an escape from reality and a perfect way to conduct training sessions.

There are four large cubicles placed directly in the midst of the room. Wires and pipes of all kinds line the walls and ceiling; giving off a muted neon blue and purple glow. Heart monitors and recent scans of our brainwave activity light up the screens, and right now my readings are going haywire.

"Shit Leo, I should shove your head up your own ass and toss you into the P.I.T.," Raph growls out menacingly. My beak wrinkles in disgust as the stench of cheap alcohol wafts up to my nose.

_"Seriously Raph? Drinking with Case again._" Now I understand why Raph has been on such a short fuse lately. He always tends to get pissy when intoxicated.

Despite my initial directive to remain indifferent, I can't help but feel angered as well. I'm angry at him for making things harder than they need to be. I am angry because of his repelling mood and his obvious disregard for my orders. The frustration continues to build at an exponential rate and for the first time in my life I feel like I am going to lose it. I bare my teeth and glare back at him in return. The ghost of my hunger is feeding off of the hostility brewing between us and if I'm not careful - all hell can break loose.

"If you want to fight... so badly Raph... why... don't you let go of me? Or... are you too... scared?" I gasp out in strangled breaths.

Immediately his eyes narrow dangerously, and I can see the fierce _want_ swimming in the depth of his pupils. His fingers tighten about the flesh of my neck, and his breaths quicken in anticipation.

"Is th't so Fearless?" his voice rumbles deeply; faint puffs of his breath curling about my cheek, "maybe I'm jus' doin' ya a favor, or maybe I enjoy seein' ya so helpless for once."

A surge of pure white anger rises in me at that, and in retaliation I bring my right arm around in a high arch; slamming my elbow in the crook of his arm.

Instinctively I wedge my knee between us and slam the heel of my foot against his plastron. Almost instantaneously his fingers lose their hold on me, and I am able to draw in a jagged breath. Pushing against the wall, I stagger to a stand; posture erect, and muscles tense.

Raph rubs his plastron subconsciously as he flashes his teeth at me in a mixture of excitement and challenge. A primal instinct urges me to react, to show this underling who is boss. Growling deep within my throat, I prepare to lunge.

Suddenly a blur of purple materializes before me and I pause. His scent hits me before anything else and I take a moment to fully register the olive colored hand extended in my direction.

"Knock it off or else I'll be forced to place _both_ of you in the P.I.T." Don's sharp voice lashes through the air; leaving no room for argument and snapping me out of my rage induced state. Raph's grimace mirrors my own as we both register the implications of Don's threat. There is never any love lost for the P.I.T.; another one of Don's projects that tends to have no real positive admiration from the four of us.

Donnie is addressing either of us, but his eyes are solely fixed on me. He's silently pleading for me to end this; for me to reinforce his sentiment and back up his peacemaking ways. Don is never one for violence, yet he acknowledges the necessity for force once in a blue moon.

Glancing at Raph, I come to find him coiled tight - muscles bulging, breath shortening, eyes blazing. He's a bullet ready to be fired and I'm the one holding the trigger. Taking a step back I clear my mind, relax my posture, and draw in a steady breath; re-garnering that control I am so famous for and snuffing out my anger. Unconsciously Raphael follows suite. The fight that could so easily be found in him a moment before slowly dissipates. Don and I are close. Closer than anyone in both mind and spirit. Yet there is no denying that Raph and I seem to be wired together in an unidentifiable way of emotions and physical actions; our own form of communication.

I can recall a time when we'd silently interact through our movements in a friendly spar. Hits, grunts, sighs and a flash of a smile had the ability to tell a whole story; to relay emotions and reassurances. Unassuming onlookers viewed our fights as mere training; our way of life. When in reality those spars were a verbal dance of words and side conversations. But times have changed and what was once special has now been corrupted by an unseen force. Now our fights are full of aggressive behavior, and insecure thoughts. Once a sucker punch to the shoulder meant "_Hey bro, sup?_" Now it screams "Get _outta my face or I'm gonna rearrange yours_."

I release a sigh through my nose and rub the bridge of my beak to ease the mounting headache. I need to recenter myself and refocus. This family is turning upside down and I feel as if I am following suit. Shit, I really do gotta get out of here before things get worse.

"Look guys," I cross my arms over my chest and roll my neck; satisfied to feel my control back in place,"we are not a proper unit out there. You've just witnessed how disorganized we are and how easily we were all taken out." There is no accusation or hidden hostility, just mere observation coloring my voice.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd told us that we were headin' inta a level seven shit yard then things would'a been different," Raph throws in with his usual arrogant snarl.

I shake my head and shift my weight; thinking. Slowly I try and explain. If only Rahpael could just take a step back and take a breath, to think and process. Then things would be so much easier.

"That's the point Raph. We can't expect for everything to play out perfectly. In a real world situation, even a well thought out plan can fall apart in a second. We have to be prepared for anything and everything; to be able to overcome a mission gone bad or a variable overlooked. Honestly, I don't feel like we are ready for that," for a moment I am met with mere silence. Then Raph shakes his head and breathes out a sigh of harsh chuckles. Gritting his teeth, he gazes at me evenly.

"I get whatcha sayin' Fearless. Despite misguided belief I can read in between the lines just fine older brother," he crosses his arms over his plastron and cocks his head to the left before taking small menacing steps toward me.

"I ain't behaving well enough for you right? You want me to fall in'ta line like a good solja boy; followin' orders like it's all dandy and shit. Well let me tell you this," he extends a hand and roughly pokes me in the chest.

"I ain't no solja Leo and it's about fucking time that you figure that out. I'ma Ninja, and I can damn well do what'eva I want."

"You're damn right you're a ninja. I'm just waiting for you to act like one," I bite out with a sharp hiss.

"What the hell did you just say?" Raph roars out, "How dare you! You little fucking bi-"

"That's enough Raphael. Training session is over," Don cuts in. I give him a questioning look; surprised at this intervention. Donatello rarely gets in between one of our fights. Normally he just observes or lets us have our space.

"Is that so Brainiac?" Raph grumbles snidely, "who says that I have'ta listen to you?" he finishes with an icy glare and I take that as my cue to step in.

"I say so," my voice is firm and hopefully Raph knows better than to argue with me on this. Especially when Don or Mike become involved. Raphael's expression is a mixture of anger, and frustration. For a moment I think that he's not going to let this go, but at the last second he whips himself around with a huff and stalks away with pronounced footsteps.

"Ain't he just a ray of sunshine?" Mike pipes up with sarcastic mirth. I can't help but frown in thought.

"No, that's you Mike," he turns to me with a questioning look. On impulse I extend a finger and lightly bop him on the beak. A cheeky grin breaks out across his face and it feels good to see him smiling. I jerk my chin in the general direction Raph has just walked off.

"It'd be best if you talked with him, get him to cool down before he breaks something. You have a way of knocking some sense into that thick skull of his," Mike gives me a smirk filled with hidden meaning, but before I can question him he's already out the door.

* * *

><p>I apologize for any mistakes. This is the first time I am attempting a story such as this, let alone dealing with this fandom. Reviews are welcomed as always, and well... you should know by now how I feel about flaming. Thanks for reading!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

_Michelangelo's P.O.V_

* * *

><p>I pause before Raph's door, the crude sign of - <em>Warning: Violaters punched on Site; Ain't no such thing as Survivors - <em>exude the element of danger and aggression.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I catch sight of something akin to a memento amongst the stickers and hand drawn doodles. I idly trace the stray mark along the wooden surface as a memory tugs at the forefront of my mind. The rut is about the size of my finger and smooth to the touch; a perfect replica molded to the shape of a random scute along my carapace.

I can clearly recall the morning that I had unintentionally caused such damage; having been shoved up against it by a certain hot head. It was a day that Raph had gotten more than a little... aggressive. Luckily enough both Don and Leo had been gone that day, and Splinter had been paying April a visit.

With one final glance at the small nick, I push open the door and step into an atmosphere of almost complete darkness. A heavy musk of diesel, metal, and sweat wafts to my nose. It is the scent of Rapheal, and I can't help the flutter of excitement that stirs within.

As suspected Raph's at his personal punching bag; pounding away with impressive force and a fierce drive. The leather material hanging about his hips swing in correspondence with each throw; emphasizing the true strength he maintains, of which I am all too aware of.

I close the door softly behind me and take a single moment to merely observe; gain a proper understanding of where exactly Rapheal is on an emotional and mental level.

Raph can be tricky. He can be unpredictable at times, yet still remain an open book. It can be damn frustrating and exciting, and I love him all the more for it.

Shaking my head slightly, I peer at him closely. My eyes catch unto the flex of muscle as he moves with such focus. He's angry. Obviously; no surprise there. But he's also confused. Almost as if he himself doesn't fully understand where all this aggression is coming from; wild and a loose cannon. Approachable but still armed and dangerous. I smirk with this newfound knowledge. Leo's right; I know just what he needs.

A bead of sweat trails down the sharp line of muscle beneath terrapin skin and I cock my head to the left as I take particular note of it.

"Damn," I wander closer, "have I ever told you how sexy you look when you're beating the shit out of that poor defenseless bag?"

Raph stops mid-punch and looks at me over his shoulder. His anger dissipates for a moment as he acknowledges my presence. His smile is all sharp teeth and cocky self assurance; filled with the charismatic nature of a predator.

"I can't say that ya have," he rumbles out in amusement; a dark glint in those honey gold eyes. A low chuckle breaks free from my throat as I saunter closer to him; swinging my hips to an internal rhythm.

"Well I'm telling you now, aren't I?" I muse innocently, as I trail a hand along his jaw, and down his neck, before coming to a rest at the base of his head.

"What do ya want knucklehead?" he proceeds to unwrap the strip of tape about his knuckles, "don't tell me, Leo sent ya didn't he?"

I mock pout at him and lean in just a little closer; drawing a finger across the thick strip of leather tassels hanging over his groin. His breath deepens slightly and I can feel the tension slowly leach from his body. I manage to hold back a smile at the expected reaction.

"Yeah, but that's not why I came. I wanna know what's got you so fired up bro," my tone is casual but my body language is insistent, "you've been ditching me for the Wreckroom at night and sleeping most mornings. Now this? What's got you wound up so tight?"

Raph huffs out a breath as he brings his hand to my face and I know he doesn't want to talk about it. I playfully try to nip at him in defiance and he mock swats at me in reprimand. Still, he gets the hint and reluctantly divulges some information. It ain't everything, but when has Raph ever been the talking type?

"Leo jus' gets to me sometimes Mike, and it fuckin' pisses me off," his mask scrunches along his brow as he scowls, "where does he go off tryin' to act like we're the problem anyhow? In any case it's his own damn fault. Acting all high and mighty. Talking about makin' us better, and that its all for the team. I swear that he just tries to make me look bad in front of everyone."

Suddenly he looks almost... uncomfortable, "Mikester, I... hope you know that I wasn't mad at you earlier," He shrugs, "Ya know me. I ain't the most _civilized_ turtle in the world."

My eyes follow the path of the lone toothpick as it rolls around his mouth while he talks. It's so close that I could just almost steal it with a quick snap of my teeth; distracting and tempting.

"Are ya even listenin' to me Mike?" his voice is rough. He's just apologized - a rarity if anything - and to him it I seems that I don't really give a fuck. Quickly I snap to attention.

"Yeah, yeah but geez Raph," I bring my gaze back to his eyes, "you have got to stop lettin' Leo get to ya so much," I chide with a small frown of my own.

Normally this wouldn't bother me. Raph and Leo get into little spats all the time. Yet it's been occurring more often than not. It's gotten to the point where Raph's mind is dwelling on Leo, to the point of obsession, and ignoring more important things; moi.

He merely grunts in response and I can tell that his mind is wandering again. The spark of frustration is back in his eyes and I internally sigh with the knowledge that it's Leo once more.

"You know..." if I had eyebrows, they'd be waggling all over the place, "I happen to know a little trick that'll take your mind off of Fearless," I add with a coy smile.

"Yeah?" He blinks and zones back in on me. His eyes are now alight with excitement and lust; mirroring my own.

"Hmmmhm," I tilt my head and lean into his body, "and if you're a good boy..." I let his imagination take hold and finish the thought for me.

He gives a small grunt in approval before bullying me into place with his body and hands. His grip grows rough and I can't help the excitement that shoots through me. Once my shell smacks against the far wall he's attacking me in a flurry of lips, heated touches, and rough nudges.

His tongue pries my beak apart and begins a fevered exploration of the roof of my mouth. It's clear that there's still plenty of energy for him to burn off by the way he's playing.

The kiss lasts for what seems like hours and finally I pull back to take in a lungful of air.

I give a small laugh and a wide smile as I twirl the thin piece of wood that's magically transferred its way between my own two teeth.

Raph's eyes watch me closely, waiting for the right moment to pounce once more.

The red of his mask heightens the desire swirling in his eyes and I almost feel hypnotized; like a younger Mike, falling for the whims of his older brother for the first time, all over again. Slowly I tangle my hand in Raph's bandana tails and tug him closer.

"Cowabunga," I murmur before he hits me hard...

on the mouth..

only...

with his lips...

* * *

><p>AN: Happy New Year!


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